Autumn is a fabulous time of year. My preschoolers have been loving the bright sunshine and cooler temperatures. We love collecting nature treasures outside. We have a growing science corner filled with these - pumpkins, pinecones, acorns, leaves, sticks, and more. One day this past week, I documented children's words as they played outside and gathered special finds; these words became a classroom poem that is shared below. When we returned to the classroom, we got out the paints and created works of art - one large classroom mural and individual pictures as well. There is so much to learn and discover in autumn.

This year, our hello/goodbye window is a particularly magical and happy place in my classroom. Do you know the book, by Norman Juster? In the story, grandparents have a special window in their home where children can watch everyone come and go. It is a very special love ritual.

How to explain this special place in our classroom? It is the perfect salve for the fragile preschooler who is sad to say goodbye to their family. They no longer have time to dwell on their misery, because one must get to the window and make merry!

One quirk about our window is that it isn't exactly on the way out the door for families...in fact, when they leave our classroom, they have to back up a few steps in the opposite direction to get to the window. It's proof that sometimes going backwards ends up being a step forward. When a preschooler's face begins to sadden at their family member leaving, a classmate or teacher nudges them - "quick! let's go see them at the window!" and off we race to the window. Oh, the scenes that transpire! We blow kisses, we make silly faces, we give hearty waves. The sad preschooler becomes an enthralled preschooler, because there is so much more to see than just their family. Yes, Mom or Dad may have just left, but look! Look at everyone else! It seems like the whole school parades by the window. Older students, who once depended on this window themselves, now stop and wave and make faces at the preschoolers. Teachers and administrators stop and wave, too. If you look very closely, across the way, you can see the preschoolers in the classroom next door. There's nothing more fun than waving to these friends, who we will see on the playground later in the day. Yes, our hello/goodbye window is a place of love and joy. The perfect way to begin a school day!

Our painting easel is an oasis of quiet, focused creativity. There's only room for two children here, one on each side, and the painting is unhurried and free. The first day that the easels were opened this school year, I gave children "timed appointments" for painting, rushing them through, so that everyone in the classroom might get a turn during our centers time. Now, settled into our seventh week of school, the easel is organically paced...sometimes empty, sometimes full, often one artist lingering on their masterpiece. Teachers can guide from the side, helping children to label the page with their name, converse about the work, move the artwork to the drying line, or provide refills on paint. Let's look at some of the children's work...

Yellow, red, blue

Blue, red, yellow

Children are curious about the colors in the paint containers. We have begun the year with the three primary colors of yellow, red, and blue. As our school year continues, children will help me pick the colors for the easel, allowing for a more diverse palette. As the children learned in our guided discovery, our easels are set up with one brush for each color and children are encouraged to work with the same brush for the same color (in hopes of leaving a good solid color for the next painter). I love how frequently I find children's work that simply shouts "colors of the day." These two were painted many days apart, by two different artists. The paintings seem to ask, "What do we have today?" as the artists investigate what colors are available, developing one color at a time.

More paper needed!

But, of course, separate, distinct colors are not the only way to paint. The very first week we painted, one introspective child discovered the thrill of covering every inch of the paper with paint. The preschooler worked quite a long time at this, mixing, swirling, stretching the paint. What was the original goal? To escape the tumult of the classroom and find a quiet spot to work alone? To discover what happens if you mix two colors? Was it simply to use up all the paint in the containers? Or maybe to create a puzzle for the teachers by covering one's name entirely? This early investigation has led to much imitation - daily, someone paints every bit of their paper at the easel. It is as if the preschoolers have an insatiable thirst for painting, it is never enough. Alas, the three colors are no longer distinct...however, the art is magical!

The surprise of working together

This next picture is one I call "The surprise of working together" - here, one child was drawing with pastels and wandered away from the easel. Pretty soon thereafter, another preschooler came over and began painting on the same paper. In these early days, children are developing their agency - just beginning to realize how to ask a teacher for a new piece of paper, how to move one child's artwork off the easel, how to ask a friend if they can work with them on art. I loved the combined effort! However, both children seemed surprised at the idea that their art was shared. As the year continues, children will begin to purposefully create art together, but this magical piece was happenstance.

The art of avoidance

This beautiful artwork celebrating the color red was created during our classroom clean up. Yes, this clever preschooler slipped to the easel corner of the classroom while our clean up song played and classmates were busy tidying up the room. The preschooler successfully evaded teachers' eyes, as we focused on putting away blocks, dolls, and other toys. I call it "The Art of Avoidance" and it makes me smile - it does show good focus and persistence.

Saying goodbye to Dad

I happened upon this masterpiece early one morning, as children were just arriving for school. It had clear lines and a distinct silhouette - not at all typical for my preschoolers. I asked the artist, "What are you painting?" and he answered emphatically "An elephant!" Well, yes, it was! I hurried over to my Teaching Resident and whispered, "Did you see the painting at the easel?," realizing we were working with a budding Picasso...and she said, "Oh yes! His father painted the contour of an elephant for him when he dropped him off." I had a good laugh! A fabulous artwork of family love and connection.

Preschoolers love to paint! Each day, our art corner is simply bursting with their creativity and imagination.

"One can tell the morals of a culture by the way they treat their dead." Benjamin Franklin

We buried Flash the betta fish this week. I noticed he was slowing down one day. The next day when I came in, I didn't even see him in the tank. I looked more closely at the tank and there he was, in long, narrow leaves of the fake seagrass. Imagine, this tiny little life still having the desire and power to die in solitude...living life in a glass bowl, everyone looking at you, and then when it is time to die, finding the one available place of solitude to die.

I shared the news of Flash's death with the preschoolers. I let them see him in the reeds. They asked,
"Is he stuck?"
"Is he tired?"
"Why is he hiding?"
"Why did he die?"
"Is he sick?"

I removed him from the tank and into a paper cup with water, so that we could transport him to the garden for burial. I let the children look into the cup one by one, so that they could each be assured he was no longer alive. They asked,
"Why is he not swimming?"
"Is he sleeping?"
"Can we make him move?"
"Is the cup too small?" asked one.
When the cup jostled, one declared,
"Flash is moving!"
I asked the children to put a hand over their heart. "Do you feel it beating? You are alive! Flash is no longer alive. He lived a good, long life."

We had a solemn procession down the hall and out the door to bury Flash in the garden. We dug a deep hole, placed Flash within, and then covered him over with dirt. I explained, "Flash the fish will help enrich our garden soil. We will be able to visit him in the garden, should the need arise." The children shared a few words,
"I like Flash."
"I miss Flash."
"Flash is in the dirt."

My colleague took several photos and I was truly surprised and moved by this one; I had not even realized this was happening, in the moment:

Do you see how one preschooler is supporting me, as I prepare to place Flash in the burial spot? It is so beautiful, the empathy and concern of preschoolers. It makes me so hopeful for our world!

***

Alongside everyone in our nation, I woke up to the news about the carnage in Las Vegas yesterday morning. Another horrific mass shooting.

Our nation will throw heart-wrenching memorials, so many flowers and candles, surrounded by breath-taking photographs of our deceased loved ones. We will weep, sob, cry out in grief. We will head right back out to the gun shop when we are done. What is life? What is the value of life?

About Me

I see this blog as a dwelling place for my enthusiasm about "all things early childhood." I teach 3 year olds and I love it. I enjoy exploring why I do things a certain way - the "theory" behind the "practice." I'd love for this blog to be a soft place for teachers, parents, and caregivers to land, to consider a variety of educational topics, and perhaps help us understand little ones a little better.